


Single Malt Scotch

by MessiahMachine



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), One Shot, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Romance, Sex, Starting Over, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 01:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21046199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessiahMachine/pseuds/MessiahMachine
Summary: Twelve years since graduation, since their breakup, Ranma and Akane return home following a death in the family. Some of the old embers are still there, and now that the men who brought them together have passed away, they may need each other now more than ever.





	Single Malt Scotch

**Author's Note:**

> This work started out as a prompt on the Fanfiction Ask Meme over on tumblr. After RDavidson rolled me two tropes well outside my normal comfort zone, I puzzled for a while on the prompt. Then I had a break through mulling it over a glass of scotch and hammered out a story treatment.
> 
> But it wouldn't end there. The idea wouldn't just sit with me in treatment form. So I started writing it out as a full fic. So let it never be said that the Fanfic Ask Meme is useless. 
> 
> Ranma ½ is an older fandom, and there are plenty of older fans out there who started reading/watching when they were teenagers. Some of them have stayed active in the fandom. This one goes out to the older fans. The dreams of our youth may not have panned out the way we wanted. Crummy jobs and too many responsibilities might be weighing us down, but life doesn't end with the death of our adolescent dreams. Maybe it's a bit schmaltzy, but there is still life and love left to be relished.
> 
> Anyway, as always I look forward to hearing from you and what you thought about the work. I've been on a long hiatus from fanfic, and I'm trying to jump back into it. While this one itself is complete, I do have some basic treatments for two prequel spinoffs.

It had been years since Akane had been home. It wasn’t like the train trip from Bunkyō to Nerima was that far. She impatiently glances down at her watch. Still felt like a small eternity. She leans her head back, closes her eyes and listens to the wheels clack on the track. Her stomach churns with more than just anticipation. She’d been running on nothing but coffee since she got the call this morning.

For what seemed like the millionth time, she went over what Kasumi said with the forlorn hope that she’d heard wrong. 

“My dad is gone,” she whispers.

Her eyes shoot open and she sits up sharply when she felt the lurch for falling asleep. The speakers call out the Nerima stop. She shoulders her bag and shambles for the exit.

The train is packed like a sardine can, but Akane squeezes through. The afternoon commuters are more numerous than she remembered. But when she roughly bumps into a ghost from her past, for a brief moment Akane is an awkward teenager again.

Ranma cries “Oy, what’s the big ide--” but the look of wide-eyed surprise on Akane’s face stops stops the girl dead in her tracks.

“Hey…” is all that Akane manages. 

“Hey yourself, Akane.” Ranma wiggles, fingering at her bra strap. 

“So...you live around here or are you back to visit?” Akane says. Her eyes trace down Ranma’s body before she realizes it. The past twelve years have been kind to Ranma. A bit taller and leaner than Akane remembered. But the biggest change is the effortless ease she seems to have in girl mode. The strap of a sports bra peeked up from under her powder blue over-the-shoulder shirt. Her black sports leggings had faded from repeated washings and her white running shoes were well-worn from use. 

“Well...there’s been a death in the family,” Ranma says flatly.

“There’s been a death in my family too.”

“Oh.” Ranma kicks herself for not noticing it sooner. Akane’s eyes are red from crying, and her rough work jeans are barely hiding mismatched socks. But the visual kei t-shirt is cute on her and reminds Ranma of the girl she used to know.

“I’m beginning to think it’s not a coincidence that we’re both here,” Akane says, “our fathers were probably in an accident together.”

“Kasumi didn’t say what happened when she called.” Ranma begins walking the well-remembered route to the Furinkan neighborhood. 

Akane takes Ranma’s hand and follows after, noticing the thin smile on Ranma’s face.

“Things didn’t end well...but I’m glad you’re here,” Ranma mutters.

“Yeah, me too.”

The walk to Tendo family estate was long. They talked to not dwell on their cruel duty. Had they met on another circumstance, they would have likely spent the walk in silence. 

“Forgive me if I’m being too familiar,” says Akane, “but it’s weird seeing you without a pigtail.”

“It was weird for me the first time. But my line of work you don’t getta pick your hairstyle, so it changes a lot.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“You’re gonna laugh,” Ranma says, chuckling herself.

“Promise I won’t.”

“Okay then. Right now I’m a stunt double on  _ Kamen Sk8er. _ ”

“Get out of here.”

“It’s true. Megumi-san--the female lead--has a few fight scenes without her mask on, so I’ve got to have the same pixie cut right now.”

“Well you always loved fighting,” Akane says wistfully. She quickens her pace, watching Ranma intently.

“I do fight choreography and other stuff like that too, but I’m trying to break into acting. I’ve had a few small parts in TV.”

Akane smiles. Seeing the joy on Ranma’s face when she describes her job...it almost makes her forget the hurtful words they said to one another when they broke it off.

Ranma inches closer. “What about you?” 

“I haven’t had much of a career path in mind. But right now I’m a union organizer for  _ Zenroren _ .”

“Ha! That must’ve...oh.”

“Must’ve what?”

“Forgive me,” Ranma says, her eyes downcast, “but I was going to say that must’ve made your dad so angry.”

“We...weren’t on speaking terms for a long while before then. There were a lot of reasons, but still politics was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

Ranma stops walking, tugging Akane to a halt. It occurs to Akane that they’ve been effortlessly holding hands this whole time, more easily than they’d ever done when they were engaged. But she shoves that thought aside, because the tears are bubbling up in Ranma’s eyes.

“I’ve been so out of it since I heard about dad,” Ranma says, her lip quivering, “But it just hit me that Tendo-san is gone too...and for those years in high school he was basically like a second dad to me.”

Akane pulls a handkerchief out of her bag and begins to dab the tears away. “There-there.”

“It’s messed up. I’ve been a zombie, but it’s Soun’s death that causes me to cry--I’m a horrible son.”

“Like I was just saying...the straw that broke the camel’s back. Don’t think too much about it, we all deal with this differently. And there’s no right or wrong way to process it.”

“You’re good at this comforting stuff. I’ve never been no good at it.” Ranma realizes how close they’re standing, and something in her sighs in relief at the familiarity. She takes the handkerchief, and finishes drying her eyes. 

“I’ve had some practice. Some of the jobs I’ve worked,” Akane shrugs, “some of the people I worked with had it rough, even rougher than me. Guess I tried to help as best I could.”

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you could keep this between us.”

“My lips are sealed.” 

They start along the path again. The crowds are getting thinner as the shops and commercial buildings began to give way to apartment blocks and prefab houses. 

“You know it’s funny,” Akane muses, “a couple months ago, when I broke up with my girlfriend I thought I’d run out of tears to cry. Then today happens.”

“Girlfriend huh?” Ranma feels a weird sense of relief in knowing that Akane is single too. Not that she’d want to rekindle an old flame, but hypothetically…

“I’ve had both.”

The old familiar butterflies stir in Ranma’s belly. “I guess I made a lasting impression,” she grins.

“Don’t let it go to your head, I was born this way.” Akane grins back, “but I guess it wasn’t all bad.”

The houses were familiar as old shoes. Akane was certain she could walk the rest of the way blindfolded. That just made each step a little harder than the last. “I’m worried...about Kasumi. She was closest to dad.”

“Makes me wonder how mom is taking it,” Ranma confesses. 

“Does that mean--”

“That we’re not on good terms. I don’t know. We talk...occasionally. But she’s sooo traditional, keeps wanting me to think about my career, think about finding a wife, making grandbabies, or reach out to Pops. Well damn, guess I put that off too long.”

Akane wraps her arm around Ranma’s shoulder and squeezes gently. “I remember reading something when I was at uni that’s always stuck with me. Something like ‘man is condemned to be free because he did not create himself but from the moment that he is thrown into this world he is responsible for everything he does.’”

Ranma wonders a moment. “That’s heavy. I mean, I dunno if I really understand it but man...that’s a  _ mood _ .” She starts walking again.

Akane follows after taking a moment to admire the scenery...and steal a furtive glance at the girl’s legs. She wonders what her teenage self would think. And how much of her youth was stolen by stupid creeps.

Ranma chides her to catch up. And there’s a spring in Akane’s step as she hustles along. Whatever chaos had brought her (and might follow), something good and pure had come out of this, and it was worth cherishing.

It wasn’t far now to the old estate. Something nostalgic bubbled up in Ranma as she read the weather worn sign aloud: “To defeat the owner in savage combat, use the rear door”. 

“Ya know what’s weird?” Ranma asks. “I still have stupid nightmares about some jackass winning the dojo sign and not being able to take it back.”

“Wow...it’s been a long while since having to worry about that nonsense.”

“Iknowrite? Still get ‘em when I’m stressed. Don’t even have a dojo sign to protect.”

Akane opens the gate and lest herself in. The lawn hasn’t been tended in a few days but otherwises the grounds were in nice shape. The flower garden is in full bloom, the wind carrying the sweet smell of spring.

The leaves rustle. Somehow, it’s all too much and tears well up in Akane’s eyes. She can still see him...mirages teaching a young girl to break bricks, picnicking next to the koi pond with mom, lazy evenings playing shogi with Genma on the porch.

Her knees are weak, but then Ranma is there, taking her hand, giving her a shoulder to lean on. They take the first stumbling steps forward. That spring breeze still blows in the north of Akane’s heart.  _ I’ve been away too long _ , she laments.

Nabiki answers the door after a few chimes on the doorbell. The mercenary girl greets them with a knowing smirk. “Oh my, the lovebirds finally reveal themselves.” But her strained laughter cannot hide the runs in her mascara. 

“Nabiki,” Akane rolls her eyes, “we had lunch last week, you know better.”

“You’re not going to honk my boob this time, right?” Ranma says, cracking a sly grin.

“Never going to let me live that one down, are you?” Nabiki strains a smile as she hugs Akane then Ranma.

The strain is too much. Nabiki’s eyes mist over. Two thin streams roll down her cheeks. Akane’s hand lingers on her sister’s shoulder. Two sniffles follow.

“How is...how is Kasumi handling it?” asks Ranma.

“Nee-chan is,” Nabiki sighs, “I guess you’ll have to see for yourselves. She’s trying to hold it together.”

Nabiki ushered them inside. Akane had barely taken her shoes off, and she’d already noticed the unusual level of entropy in the house. It is so unlike what she remembers. Whatever bulwarks there’d been against chaos were gone. Disorder staked its claim with every out of place cushion or neglected tea cup.

“Kasumi…” Akane whispers.

She finds her eldest sister by the old landline, the receiver cradled in her neck as she thumbs through father’s leather-bound address book. Age hadn’t changed Kasumi. But the bags under her eyes and frazzling of her brown hair wearies Kasumi beyond her years.

Kasumi dials with twitching fingers, cursing at each missed keystroke. After three attempts, she succeeds and now nervously drums her fingers on the laquered table.

“Hello, this is, well you see...I’m Tendo Kasumi.”

“...” Kasumi’s eyebrow twitches.

“No, I’m his daughter, actually. But it is on Soun’s behalf that I’m calling.”

“...” Kasumi breathes a sigh of relief as she notices Akane.

“No I’m afraid my father has recently passed away.”

Kasumi’s phone call lasts only a few more minutes. Akane susposses it must have been one of the many muckety-mucks dad had rubbed shoulders with in the National Diet. Someone worth a lot of money, judging by the empty pleasantries.

When Kasumi finally hangs up, Akane hugs her. Something about her sister is frail and nothing like the onee-chan she remembered. 

“I’m home, sis,” Akane says, her face buried in Kasumi’s hair. Kasumi smells of hospital disinfectant and stale sweat.

“Come on, I’ll make some coffee.”

“Isn’t it a little late for that, Kasumi?”

“Perhaps, but there’s still so much to do.”

Akane offers to help, but Kasumi politely declines. Some of the old matronly Kasumi returns as Akane finds herself ushered into the living room.

Nabiki and Ranma are already cozying up under the kotatsu. Their casual familiarity reminds her of how long she’s been away. Even back in high school, when they all lived together, Nabiki usually assumed an antagonistic role. It was hard to imagine them as friends. 

But then again, she’d cut Ranma out of her life twelve years ago. Akane shakes her head to clear it, reminding herself that the breakup was mutual. 

“Y’alright?” asks Ranma.

“Yeah, just clearing my head. Been a long day hurrying to make arrangements so I could just drop everything.”

“I got lucky at least. I’m not needed on set for another two weeks, and everything else I can just put off.”

“Soooo...when did you and Nabiki get so close?”

Ranma blinks. “Well, I worked near the Hongo campus of Todai when she was a senior there. We just kinda bumped into each other. Nice to meet a familiar face.”

Akane pops a stick of chewing gum in her mouth and starts chomping, eyebrow unconsciously twitching. “Uh-huh.” She knew she had no right to, but it made her feel hollow.

“Kind of makes me feel old, Nabiki says. “It feels like just yesterday to me, but that was nine years ago.”

“Hard to swallow that I’ve been away that long,” says Akane.

“Afraid Tendo-san will haunt you?” Ranma says, propping her head up with her hand. Her eyes flutter with exhaustion.

“No, I don’t believe in gods or spirits. I don’t know if that makes it easier or harder.”

Glass shatters in the kitchen. Kasumi’s shrieks and they immediately scramble over the kotatsu to run to her.

Kasumi stands amidst wafting steam and four liters of hot black coffee. Shards of glass dot the floor like icebergs in the coffee sea. 

Akane has never seen Kasumi this angry. Her sister’s lips twitch as tears of rage stream down her cheeks.

Akane tiptoes through the minefield of shattered glass and wraps her arms around Kasumi. Her eldest sister sobs uncontrollably into her shoulder, staining the t-shirt with bitter tears. “It’s alright Kasumi-chan,” Akane lies, “everything will be alright.”

“It won’t be…” Kasumi shrieks, “I can’t. I just can’t even.”

Ranma scampers around with a broom and dustpan while Nabiki delicately picks up the bigger shards. Akane just holds onto her sister for dear life and lets her cry it out.

When the sobbing finally slows, Kasumi says “How many nights did I find dad awake at some ungodly hour, muttering about having a nightmare about you being hurt, Akane-chan. How many times did he tell me how much he missed you. But he was too proud. And now it’s too late and there’s nothing I can do I’m so angry...at him, at you, and most of all at myself for coddling his damn foolish pride.”

“We still have each other.”

When a path is cleared, Akane sweeps Kasumi up in her arms and takes her upstairs. Kasumi is too tired to protest. By the time Akane reaches Kasumi’s room, she’s already drifting off. Akane tucks her sister in bed and kisses her softly on the forehead. “Sleep tight, Kasumi-chan.”

The house is suddenly hollow from Kasumi’s absence. Ranma fidgets in the kitchen, mopping up the spilled coffee. Brushing a petulant strand of hair from her face, she muses how she’s come all this way and what exactly happened to her dad is still a mystery.  _ Just the way he’d want it _ , she tells herself,  _ He’d play a prank on his own funeral if he could. _

But right now her stomach is still grumbling. She figures Kasumi won’t mind if she fixes up some hors d'oeuvres to go with a fresh pot.

The old percolator is in a million pieces, but after a bit of rummaging she finds a cafetiere hidden in the back of the cupboard. She whistles an old, half-remembered tune as she put the kettle on the range, the blue flames dancing to life with a touch of a match. The pantry and fridge are full, just like she remembered them.

Ranma worries over the coffee grinder, cautiously turning the crank. She hears pots and pans clattering, and whips around to find Akane starting to prepare miso soup.

“Here, better let me,” Ranma says, reaching for the saucepan.

Akane playfully bats her hand away. “I’ve got it, Ranma.”

But Ranma isn’t convinced yet. Though she steps back, she still keeps watch over Akane out of the corner of her eye. To her pleasant surprise, the miso appears to be turning out fine. As she begins to rhythmically hydrate the coffee grounds, Akane joins her in humming.

“Wow, your skills have improved--” Ranma covers her mouth too late to keep from sticking her foot in.

Akane laughs it off. “It was a struggle. It took me being broke as fuck and wasting away on cup noodles to put me in the right headspace to begin learning.”

“Yeah, conbini food gets real expensive real quick.”

Ranma watches intently, forgetting the rumbling in her stomach. Akane’s hands are still delicate as ever, but she moves with confidence now, not the brash indiscretion or timidity of youth. The silver nail polish brings a smile to Ranma’s face as she wonders what it would look like on her.  _ What those hands would feel like on her. _

Shaking her head, Ranma pours out three cups. Balancing a pitcher of cream and a pot of sugar cubes with the tray of coffee cups, she turns to say “I’ll meet you at the table.”

Ranma settles in kitty-corner to Nabiki. The businesswoman is slumped over the kotatsu, eyes fluttering at the edge of dreams. 

The smell of fresh brewed coffee starts ringing bells in Nabiki’s head. With a yawning stretch, she takes a cup. She breathes the aroma in, eyes closed, imagining herself on a Columbian plantation, gazing out at the misty green mountains. “Ooh, cinnamon roast, just the way I like it,” Nabiki teases, “You still remember.  _ Ara ara, _ you’ll make Kentaro jealous.”

A pink blush lights up on Ranma’s nose, but she quickly busies herself stirring cream and sugar into her coffee to distract herself from Nabiki’s playful jabs. “How have you been holding up, Nabiki?”

Nabiki groans, then slurps at her black coffee. “One minute at a time. Can’t help but think about my wedding plans...we were going to have a Western-style wedding. Daddy was going to walk me down the aisle. Now I don’t know if I can go through with it so soon.”

“You’ve been planning this thing for ages. But Kentaro...if he’s anything like what you’ve described him, he’s head over heels for you. He’ll understand if you want to wait.”

Nabiki chuckled. “Oh, an expert on love now?”

“I’ve been around the block more than a couple times, Nabiki.”

“Never thought I’d wind up this sentimental. Didn’t think I was ever going to get married, let alone be this distraught over one.”

Akane struts in with the miso to tail-end the conversation. “Weddings seem to be cursed in the Tendo-clan.”

Ranma laughs self-consciously. She hadn’t thought about the failed wedding plot by her father and Soun in years. It always hurt too much. But as Akane sits down with the steaming pot of miso, Ranma remembers how beautiful she looked in that white silk dress, and the redhead smiles through the pain.

Akane dished out portions for each. The savory, salty miso brought a temporary relief to the feeling of hunger in their bellies. But it was now time, Akane decides, to find out what happened. 

“So...when I got Kasumi’s call, to be quite honest she was kind of babbling. And I never found out what exactly happened.”

Ranma nods solemnly. “All she said was dad...wasn’t going to make it. And I needed to come quick. I didn’t even know Tendo-san was involved too.”

Nabiki sighs. “I figured. I don’t think I have the full story, but I did get the synopsis when I picked Kasumi up from the hospital.”

Ranma’s body is like an iron rod as Nabiki starts recounting the sotry. Her hands grip the table involuntarily, white knuckles blemishing tanned skin. Akane sits motionless, staring into her cup.

It had happened three days ago. Tendo-san and Saotome-san had been having lunch at the Nerima ward’s main office; the old panda never one to turn down a free, quality meal and a welcome break from the drudgery of assisting Tofu-sensei.

There had been a fire. Didn’t matter the cause, the building was soon ablaze. The cafeteria was on the ground floor. They could’ve escape. They  _ did _ escape.

But then they went back. People were trapped in the upper stories, bursting out windows, screaming for help, some even jumping to avoid the inferno. 

The details went in one ear and out the other. All Akane could think of was her father willingly charging into a burning building. Some of the grief unclenched in Ranma’s heart. An awful feeling--melancholy pride--replaced it. It reminds her of when she was little, when Pop seemed invincible; less than a god but more than a man.

Nabiki couldn’t say how many times they returned to the burning building. It was more than once. They carried out several people each trip, some badly burned. And though their skin blistered and bled by the end, it hadn’t been the fire itself that killed them.

If they had been in their prime, they might have lived. But they were old men now. A lifetime of hard-living had taken its toll. And the smoke they’d inhaled had been too much strain on the lungs of a lifelong smoker. They’d collapsed after the last trip.

It had not been uncommon for both men to come stumbling home in the wee hours of the morning, dead drunk. When Kasumi went to bed that night, she figured father and Saotome-san had been swept along by the salaryman’s ritual of after-work drinking. She hadn’t turned on the television. If she had, she might have heard about the fire.

Instead, she was woken up by a phone call from Tokyo General Hospital sometime around 2 a.m. She dressed immediately and ran out the door in a barefoot panic to the only one she knew could help. Perhaps it was her tears that finally let ol’ Doc Tofu get over his nerves around Kasumi. By the time he drove her to the hospital, father was already in a coma. It would not be long.

Akane listens silently. But inside, the conflicting emotions number beyond account. All irreconcilable, at war over her heart. The image of her father is a fractured kaleidoscope, and try as she might Akane cannot focus on one.

She thinks about the husk of a man who gave up on the Art after her mother passed. She thinks of the man who tended to her tears when she skinned her knee, put a cute bandaid on it, and kissed it better. She thinks about the selfish man-child who forced a retrograde and barbaric betrothal on her...and the man who clearly loved Genma so much and wished to call him brother, yet could never say with words. She thinks about the man who hobnobbed with crypto-fascists and corrupt Chinese businessmen as he climbed the ranks of the ruling Liberal Democratic Party. She thinks of their last bitter argument.

Now Tendo Soun’s prodigal daughter thinks of the man who charged into a burning building, and an old proverb half-remembered from a book she read once upon a time: whoever saves one life saves the world entire.

It’s all too much. Nausea swirls in her belly. Her head swims with vertigo. She stumbles to her feet and rushes out the door, because she cannot bear to hear anymore.The peaceful vista of the family’s carefully tended garden does nothing to calm the typhoon within.

Trembling, her fingers reach for a package of cigarettes in her jacket pocket.  _ In the end, _ she thinks,  _ we were too much alike. _

She lights up, dragging deep on the menthol cigarette. It burns just right in her lungs, with a soothing balm following the burn. She billows out a cloud of smoke. Her hands steady.

The cigarette is plucked from her lips. Ranma is beside her, placid as the koi pond. Not judging, but sharing in the hurt and the ritual of self-destruction. Ranma takes a drag on the cigarette, blowing jets of smoke out her nose.

“Ya know,” Ranma teases, “These are bad for you.” She hands the cig back with a smile.

“I only smoke when I’m angry or frustrated.”

“That must be an expensive habit.”

“I’ve also gotten better at not letting the world get to me.” Akane takes another deep draw on the cigarette. “I should quit.”

“Yeah me too. Easy to get hooked in showbiz.” Ranma chews the moment over. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No, but I need to nonetheless.” Akane took another drag and handed the cig over. “It was way after we broke up...but basically father and I were irreconcilable about politics and ‘lifestyle choice’. I think our betrothal not working out embarrassed him, so he tried even harder to ‘save me from myself.’

“What a laugh. Dad was a rising star in the LDP. He had a lot of professional friends and rivals connected to Todai. Word was getting around about how I was getting involved with activist causes. Some of us students defaced the Yasukuni Shrine. The rest of us were protesting the attempts to abolish Article 9. Word was getting around that good ol’ Tendo-sans daughter was involved.”

Ranma inches closer. “That must’ve got him sore.” 

“It did. And the more he pushed, the more I dug my heels in. How scandalous that the rising star in the National Diet had a rebellious daughter in the  _ Zengakuren _ .”

“You always did follow your heart.”

“Exactly! I didn’t do it to rebel. I did it because I believed it was right.  _ Still believe it was right _ . Anyway, dad gave me an ultimatum my third year. Either give it up and focus on school, or he was going to cut me off.”

Even now, the wounds have not healed. Ranma knows in her heart that Akane is as much reliving as remembering. But maybe this would mean finally pulling the knife out. “I’m guessing it wasn’t a bluff.”

“It wasn’t. But I was so angry, and we both said such awful things. He lived up to his word and cut me off. No stipend, not tuition. I know; poor little rich girl needs to go crawling back to daddy. But I told him to fuck off, changed my number and vowed I’d  _ never _ stoop so low as to be that old goat for help.”

Akane pulls another cigarette out of the pack, but before she can light, Ranma takes her hands in her own. Ranma pulls her close, face-to-face. “That must’ve been awful. And I’m sorry I wasn’t around to be there for you. We hurt each other a lot in the breakup. But I never stopped caring about you. You shouldn’t have been alone.”

Akane squeezes her gently. “I wasn’t alone, not the whole time. But it was lonely without you. You were my best friend, even before you were my fiancé. But I made it through okay, and learned that I’m capable of surviving things my younger self wouldn’t have dreamed of.”

“It’s rough being out on your own. But same here...I found passions that weren’t inherited in dad’s plan for his son. Gosh, I dunno if I even qualify as that anymore. I spend half my time or more as a girl.”

“You were quite the handsome boy. But I think I always liked the girl in you more.” Akane takes a deep breath. “And I’ve spent years worrying I trashed what we had because I wanted something that I could neither admit to myself nor expect from you.”

“Wait you mean--all the time I spent agonizing over not being the man you needed, you were worrying about the same?”

Akane gives a mirthful cry, nodding.

Akane’s arms are so warm around Ranma’s body. She buries her face in the crook of the tomboy’s neck. 

“I’m still so angry with him,” says Akane, “but I miss him so much. And I didn’t realize how much of me was hoping to have it out with him one last time, to make him see things the way I see them. But it’s too late.”

“It’s his fault too. You don’t need to shoulder it alone.”

They stand huddled together, swaying with the silent wind for a few moments. When the tears have dried, Akane kisses Ranma on the cheek, receiving one in return.

Ranma pops down to the edge of the porch. 

Akane slips in beside her. “It’s so surreal being back here. I lived in rat’s nests and crumbling old tower blocks for so long I almost forgot what home looks like.” Ranma’s leg is warm against hers, soothing the chill of the evening air.

“I always did miss this place.” Cautiously, Ranma wraps her arm around Akane. “Sometimes I’d wake up from a dream where we were still in high school and everything was so simple. No adult worries like rent or unemployment. I’d be so happy. Then suddenly I’m alone in a dark, cramped little room and I can’t stop crying.”

“Glad I’m not the only one.”

“Yeah.”

“Though I’m a hypocrite. I could’ve groveled back to daddy. But I decided that was a bigger assault to my dignity than any dead-end job I had.”

“I think the worst I did was waiting tables in between gigs. They’d always hire me as a girl, not a guy, so I’d have to put up with being groped and ogled to keep my job.”

“Oof, it was the same for me. I had a good job working construction right after I dropped out. It was full of patriarchal assholes, but the pay was good, and you could have pride in the work. Unfortunately, work really dried up in the fall, so they let the newbies go. So I wound up waiting tables ‘til I got so fed up I decided working the pole was less undignified.”

Ranma’s blush rises like a thermometer.

“What?” Akane chides, “Sex workers are workers. Chii-chan, an old classmate, came into the bar I was working at and basically recruited me. It didn’t take much convincing; once I learned I’d get paid more to put up with the same shit I put in my notice.”

“Do you still?”

“Nah, that’s a young girl’s game.”

“Shame. I’d like to have seen you.”

Akane is momentarily stunned by Ranma’s boldness. But as the warm blush spreads across her cheeks, she muses that the Ranma she knew in high school could have never been so bold about her desires. “Who knows...you might get that chance. Chii-chan keeps trying to get me to come back.”

Ranma laughs self-consciously. Part of her feels that this joy she feels is almost sacrilegious. She’d come home for the funeral. But the rest of her just wants to feel something other than grief right now. “You know, I was afraid to tell you this, but I had my first onscreen kiss last month.”

“Oh? You’re going to have to tell me more.”

“It was just a bit part. But I got to make out with this gorgeous  _ banchō _ .”

“Into bad-boys huh? Hot.”

“Well it was Act I of a slasher film, so I got covered in like fifty liters of fake blood by the end of the scene.”

“Not hot.”

“Someday I’m going to be more than a stunt double or an extra.”

“I believe in you. I wouldn’t have guessed acting would be your calling, but looking back you always had a panache for dressing up and pulling a caper.”

“God it was so fun. Kinda miss pulling one over on Ryoga...oh, I hope he’s still not a sore subject.”

“Eh, I’m long over it,” Akane confesses. “He still shows up from time to time, wondering what I’m doing in Okinawa.”

Ranma laughs.

Nabiki struts in with a knowing smile. “Well, I’ve finally finished the call list. I’m famished, and the last thing I want to do is cook. So let’s go out and try to drown out the grief with some booze.”

“Eh, I’m a bit skint,” says Ranma.

“My treat.”

That was all the convincing they needed. It took only a few minutes to gather jackets and shoes, they’re out the door, off to an establishment more ritzy than either Ranma or Akane are used to. Nabiki had cleaned up while they’d had their chat; her fresh makeup is alluring yet minimalist. She’s dressed like a fashionista in her smart black dress and stiletto heels.

Ranma feels underdressed in her spandex leggings and over-the-shoulder t-shirt. But it’s a worry she soon forgets. The salarymen crowded into this bar/restaurant are drinking at one of two paces: either to forget, or to blot out the world entirely. 

They find a cozy little corner booth and squeeze in around the circular table, with Ranma in the middle. When the waiter comes, Nabiki is friendly, bordering on flirtatious. He blushes as she orders three pints of their best draught beer and an appetizer platter.

“Do ya gotta be such a lush, sis?” Akane chides.

“What, he’s totally a cutey. Back me up Ran-chan.”

Ranma shrugs. “Cute, but he looks like he’s fresh outta high school.”

“That’s when boys need the egoboost the most,” says Nabiki.

Akane rolls her eyes. “Such a philanthropist.”

When Nabiki pulls out her mirror to check her hastily applied makeup, Ranma takes the opportunity to borrow some. A little bit of lipstick and mascara wouldn’t hurt, she figures.

The waiter soon returns and drops off three foamy glasses of amber lager. Nabiki takes a big gulp from hers. With a satisfied “Ahh,” she says, “Crying is thirsty work.”

The hunger in their bellies momentarily suppresses the conversation. When the appetizers arrive and they make their orders, they stick to small talk about the weather and work. The upscale versions of street food are sticky, savory and sweet all at once, and it's hard to get a word in edgewise.

Nabiki has already finished her beer by the time her main course has arrived. Undeterred, she plows onward with a Long Island Iced Tea. The food is great, especially when slightly tipsy, and Ranma is a bottomless pit. She wolfs down her dish before Akane is half-done with hers. Seeing the redhead’s pleading eyes, Akane offers up some of hers with a tut. Ranma grins like a kid in a candy store as she tucks in.

Already two drinks ahead by the time the food is finished, Nabiki ratchets the conversation towards the scandalous. “Akane-chan,” she sings, “you’re always so reticent. You never did tell me who punched your v-card?”

“Nabiki!” they both cry.

“Just curious. You two are awfully close again. Did you two ever get that far before breaking up?”

“No, we didn’t.” Akane finishes her second beer in one gulp. “I didn’t do that until uni.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No, it was just a fling. We met at a club mixer. He was this suave intellectual rebel. After a few drinks and a long talk about Deleuze we headed back to my dorm. Don’t get too jealous, Ranma, I actually ran into him *ahem* in my moonlight career at Seventh Heaven. By then he’d cut his hair, and was visiting after work with some of his banker colleagues like the fucking poseur he was.”

“I’m just going to pretend that I know what any of that means.”

Nabiki let out a hearty chuckle. “I suppose I’d peel my panties too if someone could ever explain to me what a body without organs is without dumbing it down to some vague shit.”

“Har-har” says Akane. “What about you Ranma?”

“Well, when you’re simultaneously the most eligible bachelor and bachelorette, it really isn’t hard. After all the offers, I figured I had to find out what all the fuss was about. I had just gotten a job at a gym right after high school.”

Nabiki hiccups, an involuntary warmth spreading across her cheeks. Akane doesn’t notice; her attention keeps getting drawn to Ranma’s glossy lips.

“One of the other trainers there...she was very interested. I just kind of went with the flow, not really realizing where I’d end up. We had a few beers after work one night. The next thing I know she’s asking me back to her place for coffee. Oh the look on my face when I realized that there wasn’t any coffee.”

“ _ Ara ara _ ” says Akane.

“Is that why you blush every time I ask to get coffee with you?” says Nabiki. She takes another long swig of her Long Island Iced Tea. “Thinking of me or the gym bunny that popped your cherry?”

Ranma swallows hard, her eyes flitting between Akane and Nabiki. Something clicks in Akane. “Oh...you two didn’t? Did you?”

Ranma is a deer in the headlights. Nabiki just shrugs. “What can I say, sis? She was working at the best gym near Todai, and after four years of putting my nose to the grindstone I wanted to see what I was missing out on.”

Akane’s heart clenches. Her skin is cold and numb as her breath hitches. She has no right to feel this way, she knows, and no matter how she tries her heart can’t accept that they’d been broken up for years.

Ranma clenches her teeth, glaring at Nabiki. “Akane, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

Even Nabiki’s usual bluster has faded. Akane’s heart unclenches. She remembers how much Ranma still means to her, and how close she is with Nabiki. “No, Ranma, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just selfish. But I also know that there isn’t a man or woman in the world that I’d trust more with my sister’s wellbeing.”

Nabiki breathes a sigh of relief. “I know I should have told you sooner.”

“Don’t worry about it. But I suppose this means you owe me the story, sis. Minus the smutty details.”

“I guess I deserve this. I mean, it was a friday night, the term was winding down for me. I’d completed finals and was just kind of feeling rudderless. I’d worked really hard for four years and I really didn’t know where my life was going or if it was going to be worth it. I’d gone from being the big fish in a small pond to just one smart girl among thousands.”

“Rough. I felt the same way at Uni.”

“Anyway, I went to the gym like I usually did when I was feeling frustrated. I’d seen Ranma there a couple times before. But it was late this time and the gym was practically empty.”

“God it was so boring,” Ranma chimes in, “I had nothing to do, so I gave Nabiki some one-on-one coaching even though that’s supposed to cost extra.”

“So she’s right up tight with my body, helping me feel through these lifts, and I crack a joke about needing some intense one-on-one work”

“Okay, now this part is surprising,” says Akane, “I always figured you for straight.”

“I don’t think I really knew what I was until that night, to be honest. Anyway, Ranma had gotten way more suave than before. Normally she’d have panicked at the mere hint of something like that. But then she says ‘I’d be more than happy to work out your kinks,’ and suddenly I feel like putty.”

“I mean, in my defense,” Ranma says, “you were very obviously carrying a lot of stress. But yeah, I was totally hitting on you.”

“So we’re up way too close to each other, finding every excuse to touch each other. And before I know it, we’re alone in the gym. And Ranma gives me a kiss on the cheek before turning the sign to ‘closed’. Then she asks if I’d rather shower at home or here.”

It hurts, but only a little. Akane imagines herself there and sighs wistfully. But the future isn’t written yet, she tells herself. 

“Ranma is a very tender, thoughtful lover.” Nabiki kisses Ranma’s cheek, eliciting a bashful smile, “I could not have asked for a better first time.”

“Oh, what would your fiancé think?” says Ranma.

“We have an open relationship. But I’m content with our few times together.” Then she whispers, too low for Akane to hear, “There’s someone else who needs you more.”

Ranma nods. It wasn’t the first time she imagined a long-term relationship with Nabiki. It probably wouldn’t be the last. But she felt okay with this resolution. And Nabiki was right, there was someone sitting on the other side of her, after years apart, that she did not want to lose again.

“Normally I might have been angry at you for toying with Ranma’s heart, but it sounds like you both came out of it okay,” Akane says, picking at the last of her meal.

“Well, not to toot my own horn, but I had gotten around,” Ranma confesses.

“If we’re all guilty, than none of us are guilty. Honestly, I’m kind of glad for you two. It sounds like you’re both pretty special to each other.”

Ranma nods. Nabiki shrugs and says, “If Kentaro hadn’t swept me off my feet, we might’ve ended up love rivals, sis.”

_ Love _ . Akane can’t deny it, she still is in love with Ranma. And as their hands find one another, she knows without a shadow of a doubt that Ranma still feels the same way. They’d been practically kids when they’d cut each other out of their lives, leaving a ragged wound. But they weren’t kids anymore. They’d matured, and some part of her believed that she might not make a mess of it. 

Nabiki’s phone buzzed. “Ah, speaking of, looks like he just pulled up.”

“He really dropped everything and came home?”

“Yeah, I would unironically kill for that man, he’s great.”

Ranma laughs. “Okay, mebbe slow your roll, Nabs.”

With all that Nabiki had talked him up, this Kentaro turned out to be a bit underwhelming. Akane thought he was cute enough, sure, but nothing really stood out about him. Average height, dark brown hair, mildly athletic build. He certainly dressed nice, but the thing that stands out most about him is how much Nabiki lights up as he strolls over to the table.

The introductions go smoothly. Kentaro smiles, glad he has made a decent first impression. Though something doesn’t add up in his brain when Nabiki introduces her red-haired friend as Ranma, but he can’t put his finger on what’s wrong. When Akane shakes his hand, she remarks that she’s never seen her sister gush about anyone quite like him, and his chest begins to puff up a bit. 

“Well girls,” Nabiki says, “I need some time alone with my fiancé, and to get out of these heels. I’ll leave the tab open ‘till you two close it.” Nabiki stands, a little tipsy. But her Kentaro wraps his arms around her waist and holds her steady. She grins at him, resting her arms on his shoulders. "Rrrrow. Thanks again, for coming home early. I've needed you so badly."

"I'll always come when you call, love." He kisses her gently. "Had a little much?"

"Mebbe a little. Come on, lover, take your fiancée home."

On the way out of the bar, a lightbulb flashes above Kentaro's head. "Wait...I thought you said Ranma was a man?"

"Well, some of the time. Remember how I told you 'bout Jusenkyo? He turns into a girl with cold water."

"I thought that was Ukyo."

"Nah, Ukyo is the genderfluid one."

"Umm..."

Back inside, Akane notices Ranma’s fidgeting. Stir-crazy herself, she decides to order one last round before closing the tab. She flags down a passing waitress, and asks if the bar has Yamazaki 12 Year Single Malt. 

The waitress smiles. “Special occasion?”

“Definitely. Two glasses on the rocks.”

“Coming right up.” 

The waitress turns on her heel and struts off. The six-inch pumps she’s wearing definitely make her legs look good, but the sympathy pains begin to radiate up Akane’s legs. 

“Twelve year whisky? Isn’t that expensive?” says Ranma.

“It is, but you’ll see why in a moment.”

“Oh, being all mysterious all of a sudden. I can dig it.”

The waitress returns with two small tumblers, each with a single orb of ice. An immaculate measure of amber liquid sloshes as she sets the glasses down. Ranma picks hers up and takes an experimental sniff. It smells like oat and smoke as it sloshes around the glass. 

“All the rich snobs used to ply us with expensive liquor at Seventh Heaven,” Akane reminisces, “But I think I liked the scotch-style whiskys the best.” She takes a small sip, sloshing the cold whisky around her tongue. As it warms, she savors the peaty malt flavor. “Do you know how it’s made?”

Ranma shakes her head.

“After fermenting the malted barley in water, they distill it to a high strength alcohol. At this point, it’s crystal-clear, and utterly vile to drink. Then they take the staves of barrels that Americans used to age bourbon in, make new barrels, and they pour the distilled alcohol. They let carefully tend to it for years, until this they bottle this mellow, flavorful liquor.”

Ranma imitates Akanes, sipping slowly and drawing the whisky across her tongue. It’s not as harsh as the usual stuff, and she doesn’t know just yet if she likes it. But it tastes like caramel, cinnamon and cedar, not quite like anything she’s ever tried before.

“Who knows, this whisky may have even been put into a barrel to mature the day we broke up,” says Akane, taking another sip.

Ranma nods and decides that she likes Japanese whisky. The two savor their drinks in silence, never taking their eyes off each other. When she finishes the last drop, Ranma places a gentle hand on Akanes and says, “Do you want to maybe--”

“--check into a love hotel and forget about our responsibilities for the night?” Akane finishes.

“Absolutely.” Ranma leans in, and Akane follows. It’s not like the fumbling kisses they shared as teenagers. Their lips meet in pillowy soft embrace. After a few seconds, their hands caress the other’s cheeks as the kiss deepens. Akane giggles when they part. Nothing has ever felt so right before. Ranma takes her by the hand.

It wasn’t far to a reputable establishment. After splitting the cost for an overnight stay at the discreet teller, Akane takes the lead. “Ever done this before?” she asks.

“A few times. Never at a place this nice.”

Akane beams. “Good. Some day, I’ll tell you about the other times. But right now I don’t want to think about anything but you.”

They’d selected the “Chateau suite”, which was decorated like a generic brand knock off of a fancy European villa. When Akane pauses before the armoir, Ranma presses up behind her, pulling their bodies close while leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. 

Akane guides Ranma’s hands to the buttons of her jacket. When she has it half way off and bound around her arms, Ranma cups Akane’s breasts, gently kneading the supple c-cups. 

Akane moans heartily. “Ooh, you play dirty.”

“I’m sure you’ll pay me back.”

“You bet your perfect ass I will.”

They help each other disrobe, pausing occasionally for grabassery. Though she wants to skip the pleasantries, Ranma tells herself that bathing together will be just another form of foreplay. And it gives her time to figure out how she wants to spend her first time with Akane. 

The bath is quite lovely. There’s something wholesome about washing and pampering each other’s bodies. They’ve both stayed in shape and seemingly making up for all the harsh remarks, Ranma wastes no time gushing over how shapely Akane’s legs are, or how soft her skin is.

“Stop,” says Akane, blushing red. “I haven’t had time to properly shave my legs for a while now. I feel gross and hairy.” 

“I could for you, if you like. Much easier than doing it yourself.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Akane nods. The razors and shaving cream are surprisingly cheap given the cost of the room, but they’d already been washed and lathered up completely. Ranma leaves a few kisses on her leg before working the shaving cream into her skin. 

“I’ve never had anyone do this for me before.”

“My first real boyfriend did it to pamper me. I find the intimacy soothing. And I shouldn’t have mentioned him.”

“Eh, you’ll have to tell me more about him, some other time. I feel like after all we’ve been through I don’t want to be anything but completely honest and open with you.”

Ranma finished the last unshaved line on her calf. “That’s good.” Ranma wipes away the excess shaving cream before rubbing her cheek along Akane’s leg. “Smooth as silk.”

“You’re the best, Ranma. Now...the question we’ve been putting off. Do you want your first time with me to be as a man or as a woman?”

“Honestly, I’ve been trying to figure that out.”

“Then come soak with me, and see how you feel cuddling up to me with your male body.”

The tub is big enough to easily accommodate a party of four. Ranma splashes himself with hot water from the shower before following Akane in. He settles in beside her, pulling her now smaller frame close to his chest. Their kiss is just as perfect as it had been as a woman. It’s not any easier deciding. 

Ranma decides to just hold her close and focus on the here and now. They make out for a few minutes, hands exploring every inch of each other’s body. But the water is so soothing that they soon end up cuddling.

Akane gently caresses Ranma’s erection, drawing quiet gasps from his lips. She smothers his moans with a kiss, his lips inviting her tongue to come and mingle. “You really are a man among men.”

He laughs despite himself. “I feel weird having this haircut as a guy.”

“I think it’s cute. And I think I’m starting to overheat. Have you thought about how you want to go?”

“I have, but I still can’t decide.”

“Okay, here’s a thought. You go first as a guy, and then after you blow your load I splash you with cold water so you don’t have to worry about the refractory period, and we go again?”

“Akane, I think you might be a genius.”

Truthfully, she just couldn’t wait any longer to feel him. His lean and muscled body feels exquisite against hers. After drying off, she leads him to the bed. Ranma wastes no time in exploiting his handiwork, laying her down at the edge of the bed before kissing his way up her leg.

Ranma eats pussy the way only a Sapphic girl can. His tongue deftly parts her labia, drawing along her most sensitive parts. When Akane had been with other men, cunnilingus had just been a way to get her motor going so she’d have a fighting chance at coming during the main event, but they’d usually been sloppy or impatient. But tonight it seemed Ranma was intent on making her come with his tongue alone, and she is more than happy to let him. 

She dug her heels into Ranma’s back, pulling him closer. His hands grip tightly at her hips as he sucks gently on her clitoris. All the foreplay has already gotten her so close, it only took a few minutes before her hips began to buck and her back arched.

Akane was not been much of one for modesty, but tonight she was sure her moans probably got the neighbor’s attention. When the rush subsides, Ranma is grinning ear to ear. Not minding the mess, she pulls him up and kisses him until he begs for air. “You’re amazing,” Akane said.

“It was my pleasure.”

They stopped needing words. In between kisses, she guides his cock to her pussy. Her lips part effortlessly as he thrusts into her inch-by-inch. Akane looks up at him with pleading eyes, urging him onwards. She gasps in rhythm with his thrusts. The weight of his body presses pleasantly against her, and she encourages him with cooes of pleasure and muttered nonsense.

Akane is wilder than Ranma would’ve imagined. Her touches, kisses and moans draw out the most in him, and just when he’s worried he is going to overexert himself, she deftly flips him on his back. Straddling his body, Akane’s hips gyrate atop him. Her tight pussy tugs at him, until all he can do is hold on for dear life as the pressure builds.

Akane doesn’t bother to prompt him to pull out; she’s so close to her own orgasm and she’s taken all the necessary precautions. She keeps rolling her hips as Ranma’s body goes rigid. His strong arms pull her down tight to him, but she doesn’t stop until she draws every last drop out. 

They lay together until after the panting subsides. Ranma’s kiss is sweet and delicate, so she holds him close and feels his heart pounding in time with hers. 

It’s almost tempting to let sleep take him. Ranma couldn’t think of a more perfect way to drift off than spooned up to Akane in post-coital bliss. But life starts to stir in him again, and soon his little soldier is standing at attention. 

Akane beams. “You know, you’ve got just enough stamina we wouldn’t actually need to change.” She gives the end of his dick a quick lick for good measure. 

“Even so, I want to be with you as a woman too.”

“And I want that too. Just let me have a little fun with your dick before we put him away for the night.”

Ranma nods as Akane takes in the head, flicking her tongue along sensitive ridge at the bottom. At first it’s soothing how she playfully sucks on his dick. But then without warning she takes him balls deep, and he wonders if he’s going to come again already. 

Akane pulls his dick out with a satisfying *pop*. “Something for you to look forward to, my love.”

“And how.”

Akane kisses him deep again. “C’mon, let’s get you changed.”

It only takes a bit of cold water to change, but they both decided to freshen up a bit before having another go. After toweling off, Akane pushes Ranma towards the bed. Ranma only gives a token resistance to make her work for it.

“Just so you know, I’m not going to lose to you at eating pussy,” Akane whispers in Ranma’s ear. After giving a playful bite to the redhead’s ear lobe, Akane pulls her into the bed. 

They spend more time kissing this go around. Akane begins to wonder if Ranma is just more sensuous as a girl as Ranma’s hands roam across her skin. She returns the favor, squeezing Ranma’s ass or playing with her tits.

After a bit of a tussle, Akane manages to turn Ranma over on her back. Akane suckles at her nipple, eliciting a soft cry. “You know, I’m still jealous that your boobs are bigger than mine.”

“I mean, you get to play with ‘em, so who really wins?”

“Touché.”

Akane slides her slender fingers down Ranma’s belly, through the trimmed patch of hair between her legs. Ranma sucks air between her teeth as the fingers near their destination. She feels the middle and ring fingers dance along the cleft, index and pinkies caressing her labia. Ranma yelps as they enter her; Akane’s nails are short and well-manicured, but she’s pushing a bit too fast.

Ranma pulls Akane down for a deep kiss, a silent reassurance that she’s alright. Akane continues more gently, and soon Ranma in the zone and there’s no discomfort. Akane’s fingers glide effortlessly against her, curling up towards her g-spot. 

“Oh, Akane,” moans Ranma. She wants to tell Akane how good it feels, that there’s nowhere in the universe she’d rather be than right here, but the words can’t come. And just when she feels herself teetering on the precipice, Akane backs off just enough, leaving her waiting for the fall.

Finally, as Ranma’s nails begin to dig painfully into Akane’s ass, she tumbles off the edge. Ranma’s back arches involuntarily, thrusting her hips forward into Akane’s hand.

Ranma blinks, sight and sound slowly coming back to her. Her heart pounds as Akane plants a kiss on her forehead, and brushes the salty tears from her eyes. “Amazing.”

Akane’s body tingles with electricity. The power at her fingertips seems godlike. She’s yearned to hear those cries for so long, so long she’d forgotten how much. The love of her life is right there, in her arms, glowing in post-orgasmal bliss. Akane hugs her closer, kissing her soft inviting lips, all to hold on to the fleeting moment.

The words that Ranma couldn’t say all those years before come effortlessly now. “Akane, I love you.”

“I love you too. More than life itself.”

There is still so much left to say. And truth be told, it terrifies Akane to the bone to admit how much she needs Ranma in her life. But she is weary of wandering and she’s not the girl she once was. Ranma is no longer the one who got away. That precious love she’d lost in the fires of adolescence is now found in the ashes. She will not ever let it go, she decides. 

None of the previous ‘i love yous’ are quite like this one. This one feels like forever, and Ranma decides that she can’t imagine it any other way. There’s a whole lot of this screenplay still unwritten--where they’re going to live, joint bank accounts, who is going to wear the tux--but that minutia can be left for tomorrow. Right now there’s a beautiful woman in her arms and the night is still young.

“So...I’m good to go again if you are,” says Ranma, “Though I remember you saying you were going to prove that you were better at eating pussy than me, and yet--” 

“--I’m just that good that I don’t even need to use my tongue to rock your world.”

“True, true. You’re still going to have to show me those skills some time. But right now--” Ranma rolls Akane onto her back “--I’ve got a little trick of my own I think you’ll enjoy.”

“I can hardly wait.”

It takes a moment for Akane to figure out what Ranma’s game is. Ranma pulls her up into a sitting position. Blowing a kiss, Ranma says “Wait here a moment.”

Like many of the more upscale establishments, this one offeres certain amenities to paying customers. And while this didn’t exactly fit the “emergency expense” reason Ranma kept a credit card, she figures this is worth it. 

It’s essentially a vending machine, with little slots for everything from condoms and cigarettes to small bottles of liquor. Ranma makes her selection and slinks back over to the bed. She pulls a suave purple vibrator from behind her back, the kind sold with a wink and a nod as a “neck massager” out of chain retailers. 

“Oh you are creative, Ranma. You going use that on little ol’ me?”

“More or less. I have something slightly more creative.” Ranma cups Akane’s cheeks and plants a wet kiss on her lips. The redhead half sits in Akane’s lap, entwining their legs together. 

Akane nods, shifting her weight so that their vulvae press together. Ranma’s pussy is pleasantly warm as they glide together. She grinds her hips in rhythm with Ranma, giggling. 

The vibrator buzzes to life, sending a tingle down Akane’s spine. Ranma slips it between their bodies. A throaty moan escapes her lips as the vibrator slides along Akane’s clitoris. 

Ranma’s panting soon echoes Akane’s. It’s been a while since she’s played with toys, and the sensation is almost overwhelming. But Akane’s hand finds hers, urging her onward.

“Something else right?” says Ranma.

Akane giggles, “Yeah. We used to scissor at Seventh Heaven just to get the customers riled up. I thought it was just a gimmick, but this makes it something else.”

“Such a tease.”

It’s getting harder to think straight. But something wicked in Akane stirs. “I enjoyed getting them riled up, like a dog straining at the end of a leash. You wanna know a secret?”

“Mmm.”

“Every night, after I made it home...I’d be so horny myself, I’d be naked as soon as I had the door locked. I’d touch myself until my cries woke the neighbors, then drift to sleep.”

“Ahh.” Ranma grinds harder as Akane tells her tale, for the sheer thrill of hearing her talk dirty. It didn’t even matter if it is true or not; and if it isn’t, it ought to be. “Tell me more.”

Akane sucks in air, hoping not to come just yet. “Oh? Does it turn you on?”

“Yeah, have to be on my level to handle a slut like me”

“I’ve got plenty of stories to tell you.” Akane presses tighter. With a bit of coaxing, the dial turns up another notch. Her whole body is one fire with the rush. “But only if you come for me.”

With their breasts hugging together tight, those sultry words whispered in her ear are almost enough to make Ranma come. But not yet. She leaves defiant hickies on Akane’s neck as her fingers dig into Akane’s ass for more leverage.

It was a good fight, and losing never felt so good. Besides, Ranma isn’t far behind her. Akane throws her head back, teeth bared, as the crescendo ripples through her. Ranma buries her face in Akane’s neck soon after. They keep struggling together until the vibration starts to become painful on her sensitive clitoris.

Shaking fingers remove the vibrator, fumbling to find the off setting. The two collapse into a heap on the bed. The panting subsides. The kisses that follow are ravenous. Part of Akane is embarrassed to have cut loose like that. The rest of her wanted this years ago. 

An embarrassed blush lays hot on Ranma’s cheeks. “Uh, sorry about calling you a slut there. Heat of the moment.”

“You called yourself a slut too. Besides,” Akane kisses her gently, “it was hot. I’m glad I could share that part of myself with you.”

“I’m glad.”

“Though it’s probably cheating to bring power tools into the bedroom.”

“You didn’t seem to think so when you were coming.”

“Hah.”

“I get to keep it, so I’ll let you use it on me as payback.”

“Honey, I’ve got a strap on for that. Unfortunately you’ll have to wait a bit for that treat.”

Ranma twitches her nose. “Well...about that. Hypothetically, you wouldn’t have to wait.”

“Oh?”

“I brought along some Instant Nannichuan, in case I needed to be a boy for the funeral, so I wouldn’t have to worry about mishaps causing a scene. But...if you wanted to give it a try, that’d be something I’d like.”

In all the times Akane had thought how handy Ranma’s curse might be in the bedroom, until now she hadn’t thought about changing herself. But as she puzzles it over, the more right it feels. There is no better way to consummate their relationship, to truly understand life from Ranma’s point-of-view, she decides. “Yes. Absolutely.”

The tension drains away from Ranma’s face. “Thank god...I was afraid you’d think it was weird.”

“I decided normal wasn’t for me when I fell in love with you, Ranma.”

Preparing the Instant Nannichuan gave them some time to freshen up. Akane orders a few beers from the vending machine, then retires into the bathroom to change. Ranma waits at the end of the bed, practically humming with nervous energy.

It’s like her first time all over again. Ranma thinks of the tension that always came in past relationships; how unsettling it had been for her partners to be with someone who was not merely a man or a woman, but somehow both and neither as well. She hopes she can see him as a man, even if only for one night. But she’s always been on the other side of this divide.

Akane teeters out of the bathroom. Ranma  _ sees him _ , his awkward and uncertain first steps, and the love soars in her heart. She comes to him, resting her hands on his hips. 

Akane steadies himself on Ranma’s shoulders. He looks down at her--a strange new sensation--down at those bright blue eyes beaming back at him. He smiles as his legs steady.

“My god, what a hunk.”

“You really think so? You’re not just saying that, right?”

“Cross my heart, hope to die, etc.” 

“I still feel a bit awkward.”

“You’re probably overthinking things. Lean on me, you’ll be doing great in no time.”

Ranma helps him over to the bed. The mattress sinks under his weight, and Akane feels a brief pang of worry about his weight. His fingers trace over the tight cords of muscle on his chest and stomach, and the worry subsides. 

The pop-hiss of opening beer cans reminds Akane of the thirst he’s worked up. Grinning, Ranma hands him one before settling in next to him. They clack their cans together and take a deep draw of the golden lager. 

Ranma wraps her arm around his waist and rests her head on his shoulder. “We’ve got all night, let’s make sure you feel right in your own skin.”

“Thank you, Ranma.”

“And please tell me if you are having second thoughts. I really would love for you to fuck me like this, but I want you to want it too.”

Akane leans over, kissing the top of her head. His hand sneaks up her side to grab her boob. “I do--” his voice starts to crack and he rambles through it, “oh wow it’s still weird getting used to how I sound.”

“I think it’s sexy. You’ve got that young Mifune Toshirō vibe going, so sultry. I’d call it a panty-peeler but those babies are long gone.”

“Yeah, I never figured you for a thong type.”

“No panty lines, baby.”

The beers are refreshing. Ranma pounds hers, then settles in behind Akane, hair brush in hand. 

“You have a thing for grooming your partners,” says Akane.

“Yeah. You still have more or less the same haircut as you had in high school, and I figured a high pony tail might complete the look. Besides...we’ve kinda made a mess of your hair, and I want you to look perfect before you get a first look in the mirror.”

“Than you, Ranma.”

Brushing the tangles out of his hair is soothing. By the time she’s finished brushing and tying back his hair, Akane has finished his beer. Ranma hops in front of him, stealing a sneak peak between his legs. “R-r-row, what a tiger.”

Ranma pulls him to his feet and walks him to the vanity. His legs feel steadier under his body. As his eyes trace along the curves of Ranma’s backside, he feels the heat begin to stir in his loins.

“Now close your eyes.”

He obeys. Ranma guides him to his destination. She rests up against his chest, pulling his hands up to cup her breasts. His now rock-hard cock brushes the small of her back. 

“Okay, open them.”

Akane saw in the mirror Ranma grinding up against this lantern-jawed hunk, her eyes half-lidded with desire. The five o’clock shadow on his cheeks gives him a roguish charm. His strong hands cup Ranma’s gorgeous breasts as she drapes herself across his broad, toned chest. There’s a rush when he recognizes himself in the mirror. “Wow.”

“See, I told you that you were a hunk. We look like a pin-up right? I kinda wish I had a camera.”

“Surprisingly, me too.” 

Ranma circles behind him. “I’ll let you get a better look at yourself.”

Akane does a few poses in the mirror. The rush continues, the kind he felt when he’d been on stage before adoring crowds. “I think I’m a bit of an exhibitionist.”

Ranma’s hands trace down his abs. She gives a soft tug on his dick. Akane sucks in through pursed lips. “I think so too.”

Ranma’s strokes are slow and methodical, more of a teasing foreplay than an attempt to rub him to completion. But right now Akane can hardly tell the difference. It’s all the wondrous scariness of the first times exploring  _ her _ own body as a teenager. 

Ranma gives his nipple a little tweak before spinning him around. Her strokes slow as she presses his dick against her belly. Standing on her tip-toes, she kisses the worry from his lips. “Make love to me, Akane.”

He nods. Heart pounding a mile a minute, he is lead back to the bed. Still self-conscious about his size, he offers to be on bottom, but receives a polite but firm refusal. 

“You’re not going to hurt me. I want you to cut loose and do what feels right. I want to feel your body pressing down on me, smothering me with kisses as you pump in and out of me.”

Ranma drapes herself across the bed, her gaze smouldering up at him. He ducks in to kiss her, letting his weight slowly settle on her. Her smile never wavers. He presses the head of his dick against her pussy, and with a wiggle of her hips he slides in smooth.

“I was kind of worried it wouldn’t fit,” he mutters, acclimating to the warm embrace around him.

“You’re big, but not that big. Besides, you of all people should know how these parts work.”

“I know, it’s still scary. I can’t imagine how weird it must be for guys who’ve never been on the other end before.”

Ranma kisses him, their tongues mingling together. “You’re doing great, babe.”

Akane presses the rest of the way in. At first, it’s almost overwhelming, how tight the sensation is. But soon it’s second nature, his hips rocking in perfect synchronicity with Ranma’s. She throws her head back, purring in his ear. 

“Keep going, you feel amazing, babe.”

He can’t spare the attention to respond. He wants to feel every inch of her exquisite body against his. He thrusts deeper, harder, faster than he dared to before. Ranma’s labored breathing tells him this was the right choice.

“Yes, yes!”

Ranma is so close, he can feel it. But he’s running out of road before the brick wall. The tension coils tighter in his loins, and at the last second remembers. Squeezing the base of his cock, he pulls out. 

He’s light-headed from sitting up so fast, and it’s squirting out anyway, so he gives in and strokes himself to completion. Long ropes of come splash across Ranma’s chest. 

“Photo finish. Nice.”

Akane collapses beside her. Ranma kisses him before running off to the bathroom to clean up. He lays there on his side, listening to the water running in the next room, and Ranma’s muffled cries as she finishes matters with the vibrating shower-head. 

He was so close. But if Ranma didn’t feel bad, then he decides he shouldn’t feel bad for not lasting long enough on his first time. There would be plenty of other opportunities. Instant Jusenkyo Powder wasn’t too expensive. 

When the door to the bathroom opens, the lights dim to a faint twilight. “Hey Akane, you still awake?”

Akane nods, his eyes heavy with fatigue.

“Do you want to change before bed?” His nonanswer prompts her encouragement. “Cool, this means I get to be the little spoon. Scootch yer butt, I need to pull down the comforter.”

Spooning with Ranma is nice. Her body is so cuddly against his that he’s out as soon as she settles in.

Hearing his faint snores, Ranma giggles. “Good night, Akane.”

They wake up earlier than they would have liked. They’d had a nice reprieve from the weight of responsibility on their shoulders, but they could not escape it for long. They chit-chat for some time about life, music, what they’re going to have for breakfast before getting up. In spite of the temptation, morning sex is out of the question for both of them. Responsibilities keep weighing down on them. They still express their affections in more restrained ways as they clean up and dress.

They’re back to the old Tendo estate by 9 am. Kasumi looks much refreshed, and already has breakfast out. Tofu-sensei is there, as are Nabiki and her fiancée. Everyone knows what’s been going on between the prodigal children of the Tendo and Saotome clans, but no one brings it up just yet. 

There is scarcely any time left for it anyway. The funeral is rapidly approaching, and there is still so much to do. With no time to spare, they get the house cleaned and prepared for the wake. The black kimono of mourning feels like it doesn’t fit, no matter how Akane adjusts it. 

Ranma’s mother is one of the first to arrive; she comes in the traditional Buddhist color of mourning, white, along with the Genma’s casket. She makes it a point to not acknowledge her daughter.

Akane is by Ranma’s side in a flash, squeezing her hand. Ranma fights back the tears. “You alright?”

“Alright enough. I had a feeling this would happen...but I can’t pretend I’m something I’m not anymore. I can’t be just her son, I’m her daughter too. And if she can’t see that on today of all days, then maybe this is for the best.”

Akane nuzzles closer. “You’ll have to tell me the whole story some time.”

The guests keep pouring in. Akane recognizes a few of them from their visits with father, some by reputation, and an awkward few as old clients. The former recognize her and look down their noses at her as they greet Tendo-san’s prodigal daughter. The latter are blissfully ignorant.

Some part of Ranma keeps hoping that this is some giant practical joke, that her father will jump out of the casket and everything can go back to the awkward non-relationship they had before. But that moment never comes. It’s hard to see them both lying in state. Even gussied up for the wake, the past ten years have not been kind to either man. They’d grown older than their years.

The hours of waiting until the wake and all its pleasantries end are agonizing. By the end of it, Akane is practically ready to scream. She spent hours listening to so many of Tendo Soun’s “friends” talk about what a good business partner and steady ally he’d been, without ever once mentioning her father’s actual redeeming qualities. 

The vigil is a breath of relief, especially when Saotome Nodoka takes her leave. It’s just Kasumi and Tofu-sensei, Nabiki and Kentaro, and Ranma and Akane. 

The tea is soothing, like Akane remembered from childhood. It’s well after sunset, and they’re just gathered around the caskets doing their duty. The night is spent grieving in their own way, talking about the good and the bad in the lives of Tendo Soun and Saotome Genma. 

The next day’s funeral rites and cremation are a blur. Before she knows it, Ranma is picking through her father’s cooling bones and setting them in the urn in the prescribed order. She has to admit, this gives a sense of finality to the whole process. Her father is nothing but ash and bone. She says a silent prayer, to anyone who will listen, that the best of him will live on in her, and that the rest will be at peace. 

Saotome’s urn returns with Nodoka. When Ranma hands it off to her, Nodoka’s expression softens for a moment. “Is my son still in there?” she asks plaintively.

“I’ve always been right here, mother. I haven’t changed.”

Nodoka pretends she understands, though she really doesn’t. But she has made the effort, and that means right now there is still hope.

As for Tendo’s urn, it is decided not to keep him from his wife any longer. The next morning, the pilgrimage to the cemetery is silent. As is custom, the oldest of his children, Kasumi, places the urn in the crypt. They all take turns paying their final respects. 

Akane waits for last. Her siblings elect to give her some privacy. Akane grabs Ranma’s hand when she begins to leave. 

“Huh?”

“Ranma, if I’m going to go through the embarrassment of talking to no one, you’re going to help me through it.” 

“Okay I guess.”

“You’re the one who talked me into this. Okay...dad, if you’re out there. Even if you’re not, I’m still going to say this. There are a lot of things I’m sorry for. Most of all, I’m sorry we never had a chance to work things out as father and daughter.”

Ranma nods with encouragement.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not still angry with you. Or that I’m the only one to blame. We both made this mess. And that’s just the thing; the only reason why it hurt so much, why I was so angry with you, was because I loved you so much. And I’ll always miss you. If you’re with mother now, then I hope you both can wash away the sorrows of this life and be happy. And if you are gone forever, then you’ll live on in my heart.

“Also...one last thing. Ranma and I are together now. This isn’t about uniting the schools of Anything Goes Martial Arts, we are together because we love each other. I just figured you’d like to know that in spite of everything that went wrong, I don’t regret you betrothing me to Ranma. I’ll always love her...love him. And if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’d like you to watch over her for me, because she’s one-of-a-kind.”

Akane wipes the tears from her eyes. “There, you happy?”

“Yeah. And you?”

“I dunno, maybe. I just want to get out of this kimono.”

On the way back, Ranma decides it’s time for a nice soak. It’s been several frantic days of endless ritual and mourning since she’s had any time to relax. For such a stately process, the pace of the funeral has been relentless. Kasumi smiles knowingly when Ranma tells her that she and Akane are going to go take a bath and unwind.

As Akane helps Ranma undress in the outer bath, she laughs out loud.

“What’s so funny?” Ranma asks, slipping off her bra.

“Oh...just thinking back to when I first met your male form, and now we’re back here practically at that same moment, we’ve just gone the long-way around.”

“It is funny, now that you mention it. I wonder what our sixteen year old selves would think if we could tell hem how it all ends up.”

“Oof, I was not ready for that knowledge.”

“I don’t think I was either. I spent ages after the breakup wondering if I had just told you about the curse first, if we’d gotten off to a better start, maybe it would have worked out.”

“But it has all worked out. We needed to grow up before we could have a real relationship.”

“Exactly. All pointless wondering.”

Aside from a few kisses, they’re both too tired for anything but cleaning up and having a nice soak. They still have all the time in the world for that. Akane slips into the tub first, relishing the hot water. “Come on, lover,” she chides.

“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.” Ranma decides to forgo changing before hand; the hot water of the tub will do it anyway. “You know, I was starting to miss being a boy. This will be nice.”

Akane nods.

Ranma slips into the tub next to Akane. But it isn’t until she’s cuddled up next to Akane that she realizes that the change hasn’t occurred.

They share a confused look. “Did you maybe accidentally use some of the Jusenkyo Water Proof Soap?”

“No, I didn’t even bring any with me, I don’t thin--oh wow.”

“Wow? What do you--oh wow.” Akane’s hand slides down to Ranma’s belly.

Ranma blows a wet strand of hair out of her face. She looks up at the ceiling, laughing self-consciously. “Well Pop, in the end you got your wish.” There’s a mixture of fear and excitement. Being a mother, starting a family. It’s all so much. Worries about work and money…but they’ll get through it all. Together.


End file.
